Dave the Knight
by kitcatkatcow
Summary: This is my first fan fiction, so sorry if it kinda sucks. It's essentially about Dave being stupid and wonderful and UGH why did I write this. Dave is walking home and he sees someone in trouble. Naturally, our Knight in shining armor comes to the rescue. Nothing to do with Sburb at all. Totally random. T for language. Genre: Meh


Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

I hadn't been thinking when I saw Talia in the playground, her blonde hair whipping around her face in the dusk wind. I didn't like her or anything like that; I'd known her since preschool though, so I considered her an acquaintance, if not a friend. She was pretty though, so I decided to stop and watch her. Not in a stalkerish way. I was just wondering why she was in a playground when it was dark.

I heard a loud bust of childish laughter from the play set and glanced towards it. Talia's brother Sam was playing on the slide.

Oh. Duh me.

I continued my walk home from the arcade, where I'd been playing Pacman for the past three hours (ironically of course). My backpack was slung over one shoulder, all cool-like, and my sunglasses were still perched on my face, despite their practical use wearing thin as the sky in the west slowly turned pink. I didn't wear these for blocking out sunlight. Obviously.

I was about to turn the corner when I heard Talia shout. I whipped around and caught sight of five guys from school all surrounding her. One of them I easily recognized. He had an orange flame-colored batch of hair and was one of the few kids taller than me. His name was Rosser Dilman, and he was the biggest jerk I'd ever had the misfortune to meet.

_God fucking dammit_, I thought.

I was too far away to hear what they were saying, but I mean, come on. There were five teenage jerks surrounding a teenage girl in a darkening park. One can only make a certain amount of assumptions about this situation.

I ran up to the group, trying to stay silent on my feet so they wouldn't hear me coming. One of Rosser's cronies, Fred, made a snatch at Talia's ass. She caught his wrist and twisted it, causing him to shout in pain. Rosser punched her across the face and sent Talia smashing into the ground.

Before I could think, I swing my backpack off my shoulder and chucked it at Rosser. "Hey!" I shouted, just as it slammed into his back. There were a good five textbooks in there, not to mention various school supplies and other miscellaneous shit, so the force knocked him over enough to slam his hands into the dirt. All six (and maybe seven, if Sam was watching from the playset) faces turned to me. Rosser scrambled up off the ground, cursing.

"Well if it isn't Dave Strider," he growled, his teeth clenched. "You'll regret that stunt, you little asshole."

"Oh yeah?" I said with a laugh, a smirk plastered across my face. "Prove it fuckweasel."

If I could always rely on one thing, it was Rosser's hothead. He yelled and ran at me, his five buddies at his heels.

Which was when I had my moment of revelation.

_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea._

Fuck.

I turned on my heel and started to run.

* * *

I had no idea where I was going, and the sun had set enough for dark alleyways to look menacing. Not a good sign. My backpack and all the shit I needed for school was probably still lying in the park, and I probably wouldn't be able to get it until later. If I lived, of course. Right now, that thought wasn't exactly brimming with hope.

Rosser and his posse were shouting insults, sprinting much faster than I ever could. The only reason I hadn't been caught yet was my nimble and lightning fast changes of direction. I figured I could probably fight off two of them, maybe four if I had my katana, but unfortunately my katana was at home.

Which meant I was in deep shit. Again.

I didn't dare glance behind me, which turned out to be a mistake. If I had, I would've noticed Rosser sending two of his boys off in a different direction, ready to cut me off. Unfortunately, I didn't glance behind me, which is why I slammed at top speed into the biggest of Rosser's cronies just as I was turning into an alley.

I hit him so hard I actually knocked the guy down, which was impressive if you considered the guy's girth. My sunglasses flew off my face and skidded across the sidewalk.

I tried to roll off him and keep running, but the kid right behind him grabbed the back of my shirt and hoisted me up. Thinking fast, I punched him square in the nose. He dropped my shirt and clutched at his face, sending me toppling backwards over the fat kid's body... and right into the arms of Rosser's other two cronies. One grabbed my arm and the back of my shirt. The other had the wrist of my opposite arm and a fistful of my hair, which he used to pull my face up.

Fuck.

Rosser stood right in front of me, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Fat guy managed to haul his ass off the concrete, and the guy I'd just punched glared at me as he picked up my sunglasses.

I was too busy watching him to notice Rosser's fist slam into my jaw. The force nearly pushed me into one of the guys holding me, but the one who had my hair pulled my head back. My jaw ached and my cheek was flushing red.

"So," Rosser said, staring down at me. "Regretting it now?"

I wiped all emotion off my face and didn't respond, which earned me a kick in the stomach. All the air was expelled from my lungs, and I struggled to fill them again.

I saw Rosser nod, and suddenly the two boys holding me threw me at the ground. I landed, my breath returning just after I hit the concrete. My breath was loud as I sucked in air, struggling to stand. I had managed to get on my hands and knees before Rosser put his foot on my back.

"You should apologize," he said. I could hear the fucking smirk in his voice.

"For what?" I hissed. My hands had started to shake. I hoped it was from fury, but I knew myself better than that. This situation was scaring me shitless.

Rosser took his foot off my back and grabbed the front of my shirt, hauling me to my feet. His grip on my clothes was like iron.

"You called me a fuckweasel," he growled, pulling me in closer. I could smell his disgusting breath. "Now apologize."

It was stupid and dumb, but I dropped the cool kid mask over my face and gave him a half smile. "Nah," I said nonchalantly. "I don't think I will."

His face contorted hideously, and I braced myself for another backwards crash into his buddies, but then his face went slack. His eyebrows scrunched together and he stared at my eyes.

"Are your eyes… red?" he asked, incredulous.

I stopped breathing.

Rosser pulled me in closer and examined my eyes further. "They're red, aren't they? _Aren't they_?"

I started shaking. "N-no," I said shakily, "Th-they're not, I swear!"

He glanced to the side, towards a streetlight, and started dragging me towards it. The fat kid, who's name was Carl, got out of the way so Rosser could haul my ass into the pool of light created by the metal pole. My back caved in as he pushed his face into mine, his eyes widening as he saw the truth.

"They are," he said, his smile widening maliciously. "Your eyes are red, you fucking freak!"

The other guys came over and saw a glimpse of my eyes too. This was so bad, this was so fucking bad on so many motherfucking levels. I closed my eyes and told Rosser to let go of me.

Instead, he shook my body. "Open your eyes, you freak!" he shouted. "Open them!"

"Stop!" I shouted, keeping them shut. "Stop! Just, please stop!"

Rosser shoved me into two of his cronies, and I was too off-balance to catch myself before they latched onto my arms. The same kid who'd held my hair last time was holding it this time. It turned out to be Fred, the ass-snatcher.

Rosser approached me more cautiously this time, and I could see his hand slowly slipping into his jacket pocket to pull out what was most likely a knife. I'm sure he could see me shaking, the fear in my crimson red eyes. These irises were a curse, a fucking curse. Anyone who saw them was either terrified or disgusted. Red eyes were what evil demons had. Red eyes were what possessed movie characters had. Red eyes were what the fucking _Devil_ had.

I wasn't any of those, but naturally, no one believed it.

"What the hell are you?" Rosser asked, swinging his switchblade open. "Are you the Devil or some shit?"

"Oh my fucking god!" I shouted, glaring at the sky. "I have red irises, and suddenly I'm a motherfucking fire demon or some shit. It's a fucking mutation, you dickbag!"

"I said the Devil," Rosser said, holding his knife up, "not a fire demon."

Oh my god. I could not believe this.

"You are insa-"

"Shut up!" he shouted, pressing the blade against my neck. Oh god. Oh fuck, if I moved one inch my throat would have a giant gash in it and I'd be so fucking dead. And all because of my stupid fucking eyes. My breath started to shake again, and my fists trembled.

"So." He traced his knife up under my chin. The cold metal scraped at my skin without breaking it. "Are you a fire demon?"

"No," I said. I tried saying it evenly, but it came out shakier than I'd meant it to. I was too terrified to move.

"You're such a liar, Strider," Rosser said. The blade of his knife was pressed against my cheek. "Or is that even your real name?"

"Oh my god," I whispered to myself, half amused by his stupidity. Of course, the other half of me was scared that his knife would slip and gouge an eye or an esophagus out.

"Shut up!" I felt his knife break my skin, and the sting made me suck in a breath. I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the small droplet of blood snaking down my jawline. "You're probably a trained liar, aren't you?" he growled into my face. "You're probably-"

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up and use what little common sense you have," I said, exasperated. "Devils and demons or whatever the hell you think I am are _not real_. Jesus Christ, it's a fucking mutation in the color of my eyes, alright? Calm your fucking tits."

I was getting real tired of this guy's shit.

Rosser glared at me, his knife threatening to dig into my cheek, but after a second he slowly began to lower it, his shoulders sagging. He glanced around at his posse, most likely wondering what they thought of his little psycho episode, but none of them seemed to show any wavering in faith of Rosser Dilman. Just mild embarrassment, probably with themselves.

He glanced up at the two guys holding me and nodded. They let go of me and shoved me into the center of the light, retreating to the edge. I stumbled a little before up righting myself, then touched my fingertips lightly to my cheek. The area under the cut was coated in a thin layer of blood. Great.

I coughed. "So, uh…" I glanced around a little nervously. "Can I go now?"

I knew I'd said the wrong thing when Rosser looked up at me with an icy glare that put Antarctica to shame.

"Why should we let a freak like you go?" Rosser asked, still brandishing his knife I realized. "You haven't even apologized yet."

Shit. I'd forgotten about that.

I cleared my throat, shuffled my feet, and bolted straight towards the edge of the circle, hoping I'd caught them off guard. There was no way in hell I was apologizing to this asshole. Not to mention he'd discovered my little eye issue, which didn't exactly make me inclined to stay and chat. So I decided to run.

Unfortunately, Fred grabbed the fabric of my shirt shoulder and pulled me back into the circle. Before I could punch him in the nose like I'd done with the other one of Rosser's buddies, he kicked the inside of my knee and pushed me into the ground, grabbing my wrists as I fell. Now I was on one knee, Fred's foot pinning my leg to the ground, my wrists held to the back of my head like I was some sort of Russian prisoner.

Shiiiiit.

I was tempted to shout _let me the fuck go_, but I figured that'd just make them more eager to kick me. So I clenched my jaw and slipped the cool-kid mask over my face again. Rosser knelt down in front of me and placed his knife on the other side of my face.

"You should apologize, freak," he said, smirking. "Otherwise, I'll tell the whole world about your little 'mutation.' That sound nice?"

"I really don't give a fuck," I said as nonchalantly as I could.

"Didn't sound like that when you were shaking like a baby under the streetlight, now did it?"

I swallowed and held his gaze, wishing for my sunglasses. At least with those I knew I had a layer of protection against other people's eyes. Without them, everything felt exposed, my own eyes especially.

Rosser sighed and stood up, so I chanced a glance at the bloody-nose kid, who was still clutching my glasses in his grubby paw. Dammit, I needed those.

Apparently, I wasn't very adept at hiding my gaze. "Oh," Rosser said, and my head snapped to him. "You want your precious sunglasses back?"

I didn't say anything and decided to simply look at him.

Rosser scoffed and snatched my glasses out of the kid's hand. "Well," he said, "these may be the stupidest pair of sunglasses I've ever seen, but at least they're better than those dumb anime shades you used to wear."

I gritted my teeth, seething. My "dumb anime shades" were given to me by my bro, and I got really pissed when someone said something bad about my bro or my bro's choice in glasses. Not to mention that my current shades were given to my by my best friend, who lived in Washington and told me these actually used to be Ben Stiller's. I mean, yeah, I was wearing them ironically and shit, but they were still given to me by my best friend.

Also, I'm fairly sure Rosser would either flip his shit or steal them if he found out my glasses had been worn by Ben Stiller, so I naturally kept my trap shut about that.

Rosser smirked and kneeled down in front of me, holding the glasses out. "Here you go," he said with obvious bad intentions, "I'll even put them back on for you."

Rosser clumsily slipped my glasses back on, then grabbed the front of my shirt and hoisted me into the air as he stood up. Fred still had my wrists pressed against the back of my head, but his shoe had scraped the back of my jeans while I was being lifted into the air.

"Now that you're wearing your shades again," he said, raising his fist behind him, "it strikes me as the perfect time to break them right on your face."

No.

Oh _hell_ no.

But before Rosser could break my shades (and quite possibly my face along with them), a cop car pulled out of the side road behind him, no sirens or lights but a very audible engine.

My face paled on instinct.

Rosser and the half of his posse that wasn't facing the cop car whipped around and, once they distinguished the vehicle as a police vehicle, muttered, "Shit!" and bolted. Rosser and Fred dropped me like a sack of potatoes and didn't even give me a second glance as they ran down the alley next to us.

"Hey!" I heard the cop say from behind me. I jumped, startled, and turned around slowly, but she was only yelling at the fleeing posse. It was a policewoman, I realized, not a policeman. I admired the fact that she was intimidating enough to scare those guys off despite her sexuality, but cops of all genders still scared me a little. I hated them poking into my and my bro's life because I was sure that we'd get separated if Social Services showed up. Something like that tends to make you a little twitchy around the Social Services and anything mildly related to them. Cops, unfortunately, counted.

"You alright kid?" the lady asked me. I nodded.

"Whoa, is that a knife cut?" she asked, pointing at the bleeding cut on my cheek. It wasn't that deep, it was just bleeding excessively.

I coughed and nodded. "Y-yeah," I said, sucking in some air. "It's fine though, really. It doesn't even hurt."

Lie. It stung like hell, but I wasn't about to let her haul me to the hospital over something stupid like this.

The lady sighed and gestured for me to get in the car. "Did that gang have a bone to pick with you or something?" she asked. I could tell she was still slightly suspicious of me. The sunglasses at night probably didn't help my cause much in that case.

I shrugged and opened the backseat car door, not wanting to share the front with her. "They had my friend surrounded and probably would've done some real bad shit to her if I didn't help," I mumbled.

The cop turned in her seat to stare at me. "You mean they were going to rape her?"

"Probably. I don't know. I threw my backpack at the tallest one though, the guy who was holding the front of my shirt. I was hanging out at the arcade and was walking back home and saw them in the park. Then they started chasing me."

"You threw your backpack at him?"

"Well, it's probably still in the park if my friend didn't pick it up. She probably did that. I'll get it back tomorrow."

"That's not what I was worried about." I lifted my gaze and saw her staring into my eyes through my glasses. "Five against one? And you threw your backpack at them?"

"Well I couldn't just sit there and let her get raped, could I?" I said a little indignantly. "I didn't even get it that bad anyway. You got here before they could break my shades."

The policewoman opened her mouth, closed it, rolled her eyes, and turned back to the wheel. "And I thought stupidity was dead," she sighed. The car started to move forward.

"Nah," I said, "stupidity is the most immortal bastard in fucking universe."

I heard her snicker in the front seat. "Well," she said with a shrug, "at least it was stupidity in the name of chivalry."

Somehow, that made all the shit I'd just gone through worth it.


End file.
